


first times

by Anonymous



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Arthur isnt very into it, Consent Issues, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pre-Canon, Young Arthur Morgan, Young Dutch van der Linde
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:28:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24778408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Dutch is always there like a shadow in his mind when he thinks of all his firsts.
Relationships: Arthur Morgan/Dutch van der Linde
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47
Collections: anonymous





	first times

It’s the finishing line to whatever they had going on. The end goal of the kisses they’d shared behind saloons, of all those touches in the night when Hosea was away. 

It was supposed to feel exciting. It was for a while, when Dutch whispered in his ear that morning a week ago that he had bought oil for the two of them. That as soon as Hosea would leave once more for Bessie, Dutch would take him to his bedroll and fuck him until he saw stars. 

A week later, all he feels is dread. 

Being _fucked_ was hardly worth the same kind of fear as the thought of death, and still he felt scared out of his wits. He feels too vulnerable like this, fully nude in front of Dutch, Dutch who himself is only in his shirtsleeves and already hard, looking at him like he’s a wonder. 

Robberies, gun fights, brawls – nothing had even made him as scared as this. 

Dutch, as always, has a solution to make him calm down. 

The whiskey burns against his chapped lips, burns his throat too, strong and smoky and just the scent of it still made him light headed, or perhaps it was his nerves, or a mix of both. He takes a couple more clunks, guided by Dutch’s steady hand until he decides that it is enough. It goes to his head, grounds him in a way. Makes him feel less anxious, less like he feels before a robbery, when he always is scared that Dutch or Hosea were gonna get shot or worse, captured and hung 

Dutch kisses him, a deep, passionate kiss that steals his breath away and it feels like veneration, for the first time he’s convinced, fully convinced, that Dutch loves him. 

Dutch’s hands feel cold on his hips. Even though his touch is soft, he can’t help but tense when he feels a hand trail down towards his backside.   
  
“Relax, son,” Dutch laughs, but it’s _hard,_ he wants to be good for Dutch but it feels impossible, it feels like being thrown into cold water. 

He hisses when he feels the first finger push in, it’s covered in oil but damn, it still hurts, it burns like alcohol in a bullet wound, stings like swinging an ax with blistered hands. 

“Are you okay there, Arthur?” Dutch asks. He sounds worried, or just disappointed, Arthur never really could tell the difference. 

“Hurts like a bitch,” he says. 

“It’ll get better,” Dutch promises, and yes, that’s disappointment right there. “Just breathe.” 

It doesn’t get better, it gets worse by the time Dutch adds another finger, but he doesn’t tell him that, afraid of disappointing the man even further by being so whiny. He even feels disappointed in himself, because by the time he feels Dutch’s hard cock pressed up against him, his first thought is to push him away. 

Something must have shown on his face, because Dutch grabs the bottle of whiskey again and presses it against Arthur’s lips. He greedily accepts it, swallows it down until it feels like he might puke. _That_ would surely ruin the moment.

It might be all the booze making a mess out of his brain, because he isn’t longer sure if this is a moment he wants to have with Dutch. 

Dutch kisses him again, and at least that feels nice. 

He’s getting dizzy, but the pain almost stops, it barely hurts at all when Dutch thrusts into him. Everything feels distant, like he’s being held under water. Even Dutch’s voice is distorted. He suspects he won’t remember much in the morning. 

“Think I had too much,” he slurs. 

If Dutch replies, he must not have heard it. 

He continues to thrust into him, each one harder than the last, pushing him down into the bedroll. And then, he feels Dutch spill inside of him, some of it gets on his thighs when Dutch pulls out. 

“You did good, Arthur,” that he hears, even when drunk off his ass he’s still tuned into Dutch’s praise. 

Dutch goes up to get cleaned. Arthur lies still. 

It’s strangely anticlimactic. 


End file.
